Morely Safer Syndrome


Look at him.

Morely Freakin’ Safer.

Smug bastard.

He is le Gran Pere of CBS’ award winning news magazine, 60 Minutes.

I suppose he has every right to be arrogant, I mean he’s interviewed everyone short of God and after that Warren Buffet one-on-one a few years ago, we might want to rethink that.

But I don’t care for Morley and it actually has nothing to do with his talents, his writing, his politics, his interview skills OR his inability to properly coordinate patterns of his shirts and ties. Morely, Honey–Baby!!! There is nothing “safer” about mixing checks and polka dots….not even on Isaac Mizrahi’s WORST day, OK?

So, you’re probably asking WHY I dislike good ol’ Morl as much as I do?

Because of his show’s time slot.

Here in Houston, 60 Minutes airs at 6 (CST) Sunday evenings. When I see the show is on and hear that infernal stop watch ticking, that means the weekend is OVER. In a few measly hours, work will beckon and another long, boring, tedium filled week begins.

I see Morley Safer’s mug spread across the 36-inch expanse of my TV and that’s my first thought. That’s followed by overwhelming fear and anxiety. Then, once the 1 mg Xanax has sufficiently dissolved sub-lingually, I start to feel better, but I realize that I might not be the only one who experiences a visceral reaction whenever I see the lovely, dewy complected Safer.

I’ve done some research on this (and by that I mean I called the man with whom I someday hope to know biblically) and he tells me in that bouillabaisse accent of his, “Laurie, you’re a whack job.  There’s no psychological justification for this fallacious Sunday remorse you’re trying to pawn off.  Poppycock. You’re hearing voices again.”

I then tell the amorphic, yet chatty beings in my head, Napoleon, Hermann Melville and David Ben-Gurion to ignore him.

Funny thing about my guy though: he disputes this Sunday evening phenomenon,  yet he gets sick by the time “The Simpson’s” begin.


Friday and Saturday, the world is a great place; by late Sunday afternoon, the world is a ghetto….a nausea rife, bowel-churning ghetto.

“Coincidence!!!!” says he.

“Bullshit!!!!” says I.

Despite his pedantic ramblings to the contrary, I feel certain I’m on to something.

I am seriously considering contacting eminent psychiatrist, Dr. Pat Santy of the world famous blog, Dr. Sanity, to see if perhaps if there is some legitimacy to this and if so, how i might go about laying claim to this syndrome. You know, make it my own.

Like Asperger’s Syndrome…but with cognitive filters.

I’d call mine “Laurie’s Lament” or maybe “Kendrick’s Condition”. Perhaps, I’d get cutesy and change the ‘C’ in “condition” to a ‘K’ .

Or on second thought, “Morley Safer Syndrome” has a nice, melodically alliterative sound to it.

Besides, he deserves the respect of having his own malady. You see, Morely is getting up there. He’s old; so old that I’d suspect when he farts these days,  he’s emitting dust like a badly hosed Hoover. Retirement for this human stalagmite is probably very, very soon.

So, when that day comes, it’ll be time to pass the torch. Morley’s replacement has to be someone offensive and off-putting; completely unfunny and hopelessly stuck in the swirling, talentless abyss of Sunday evening network mediocrity.

But who???

Wait!!! I’ve got it!!!! Yeah, that’s the ticket! We’ll switch networks—we’ll go over to ABC to check out that lame ass home video show in the same time slot.

Ah yes, the host of that show.

This guy!!!!


The very unfunny Tom Bergeron.

Fine. Great. Wonderful.

Let the Monday morning—“I’m sick and can’t make it in to work today. I have a bad case of the Bergeron“—calls begin!!!

The main symptoms? Oh, there are too many to name, but fear not my friends, this really is the PERFECT name for our new Sunday night syndrome. It’ll be taken seriously by bosses and co-workers because anything with Bergeron’s name on it, I assure you, is NO laughing matter.



  1. Tom Bergeron? Is that the guy in Platoon, played the bad Sgt. with shrapnel scars on his face?

    Besides – I thought you were freelancing? If so, that means you never get off. Not that you are never at work, no, no, no. It means you are always at work.

  2. Frankly, I’ve always wanted to have a syndrome named after me. This appears to be a case of “be careful what you wish for.” My proctologist’s assistant, who snapped the above photo mid-way thru my exam, is claiming copyright infringement. There’s a much better picture of me at the following address. The picture on the left. The other one is a bit sparce in the inky spheres department:

  3. I remember this “syndrome” from when I was a child…only then it involved Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom and The Wonderful World of Disney…

    Better days. Especially now when Andy Rooney’s unkempt eyebrows are enough to start your work week with an atomic hurl…

  4. When Andy Rooney blinks, the screen of my TV is dusted off by his eyebrows. That’s why I watch on Sundays…to reduce my cleaning time.

  5. now that i think about it, that ticking noise does kinda bring me down. of course, i never would have picked up on that until you, laurie, brought it up. now i have one more neurosis to deal with…thanx a lot.

    as bad as bergeron is, bob saget was worse [he was just making a paycheck]. man, when that show first came on the air we’d rush home from church [my early days as a baptist required sunday night church] to catch all of it…or tape it so we could see it all later in the evening.

    i still find an occassional clip to be funny, tho.

  6. I always enjoyed Saget’s stand up routine. I like the ticking noise, but I only stick around to watch an entire episode once a year at the most.

  7. Anyone who doesn’t feel dread Sunday evening is doomed to be blindsided by Blue Monday–Fats wrote a song about it in the 50’s.

  8. I hate the ticking noise–now it may be that I’m slightly OCD and ticking makes my heart race and sends me into a postal-like rage. But I’m not sure if that is why I hate it or the fact that when I was a kid and that show came on it meant I had to get ready for bed while my parents sat glued to the tube watching what I thought (at 2-12) was the most “boring” show ever. I mean it wasn’t the Rockford Files, Starsky and Hutch or the Dukes of Hazard–those were “real” shows.

  9. You could have stopped the post here:

    “Look at him.

    Morely Freakin’ Safer.

    Smug bastard.”

    And I would still be laughing.

  10. “Morley Safer Syndrome”. I like it. Now you’ll have to come up with a disease for Andy Rooney.

  11. I only watch AFV now because Saget isn’t on it and if every other station is on a commercial break. And remember that brief stint with Daisy Fuentes? Although her show was painful, at least I could watch with the sound off.

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